Paper Swans
by Perseid85
Summary: Janeway thinks.


Title: Paper Swans

Author: Perseid 85

In the end I think that was able to convince myself. Even if I was the only person that I ever convinced at least I did it, and that is the important thing. I was always a good liar. When I was young I could lie and look my mother in the eye. It isn't something I'm proud of, it's just a fact. As a scientist I observe the facts, and what I see is that I am convincing. I can convince myself. We, humans, lie every 2.3 minutes or so I read somewhere. To ourselves or to others. I guess it is a useful talent to have. It's not as hard to lie to oneself as I was lead to believe.

The 1990's Disney movies with their 50's mentality have characters with two parents and a lot of love singing to be true to yourself. I wonder how shocked the people at Disney would be to find out how frequently they lie.

I guess that I turned out all right in the end like Gatsby, I guess. You know I never really liked that book. I pretended to. I lied. I've liked about small things but never anything important. I liked to Ransom and to Kashyk and to countless others. To Chakotay. To Tuvok. To all my closest friends.

I lied to Chakotay one night. We were having dinner, and it was quiet and romantic. I invite him over. I know how he feels. I like that. To know where he stand but know that he has no idea if I'm thinking in the same galaxy as him. I need that edge. I shouldn't. He asks me things. He tried to be a romantic. I know I'm lying. I think I care for him too.

I could sleep with him. He still thinks that best of me after all these years. He doesn't know that it wouldn't mean anything. He thinks that I'm too mature for a quick roll in the hay. He doesn't know me at all, and I think that I'm proud of that. We haven't. I know that they all wonder that – the crew. Well, we haven't. I have my holodeck programs, and I've had Kashyk, but it was all part of the game and even then we both knew that we were lying to each other. The funny thing is that he fell before I did. I had the home-court advantage, but it is his quadrant. I don't think of him much. I don't think of him at all. I don't think of Mark or Earth or the life I could have had. I don't think about Cardassia or Justin. I don't think about Q. I lie. I try not to think.

I was in love with Chakotay once, and I think that he knows that if nothing else. He thinks that it is a choice that I can make. That I can be his. That I still want to be his. Maybe at one time I would have had him be mine, but that time is over. I'm too tired for that. Too careful. Too afraid. In the beginning, when I knew that he loved me, when I could see that we would never get back to Earth, when I had given up hope and still played brave; then I would have let him be mine. I could have let him love me. He thinks I've been alone here. I know that the crew calls me Queen Elizabeth I, and that they can't imagine it any differently. The Virgin Queen. They have no idea.

A holographic lover doesn't count. I hate using the holodeck for that. It is dirty. It is slovenly. I have morals. I don't want a hologram to bind me to a bed and bruise me. Programs are too easy. Love is real. I'm willing to wait. I'm willing to be lonely. Even when I was on Earth, I wasn't going to be desperate. I wasn't going to let my acquaintances from History of the Federation 101 set me up with her friend's twin brother.

Like the holodeck. People say now that there are too many romance programs for the holodeck and the people who like that romance programs say that there are too many action programs. They can't both be right. They can't both win. Maybe there is no winner, and the enemy is inside us. Won't we all be surprised.

I wonder about my crew. If Harry will go crazy about not getting a promotion. If he still thinks about that alien girl that he was in love with. I wonder if Neelix misses Kes. I wonder if he knows that falling for an eight month year old is the worst case of pedophilia that I have ever witnessed. I wonder if seven will ever understand why I do what I do. I wonder if she will ever be able to date. I wonder why the Doctor still hasn't thought of a name from himself. If he misses Danara? If B'Elanna will ever come to terms with herself. Why Tom hasn't grown up and if he still worries about breaking parole. If Tuvok can feel real love for his wife and children. If he is mad at me because he has lost the most because of my decision. If he resents me. If Chakotay knows that I love him. If he understands. I know that they can't understand me. That they probably never will. I can't explain myself to them when I am still lost.

I once overheard Tom saying to B'Elanna, "She's a mystery. I don't understand, why does the captain try to save everyone else? Because she sure as hell can't save herself. Is that why?" And I didn't hear what B'Elanna said because I ran away. I shouldn't have heard that and what doesn't Tom know anyway? I'm not lost. I don't want to be saved. Not until the right person comes along. I can wait. I wait. That doesn't end the loneliness, so I lie. I lie like Disney lied to the children of the Millennium. I lie like we all lie thinking that we will find true love when we can't even fathom an answer to the question what is love anyway? When I can't even know what he means to me.

I used to blame things, experiences, for making me that way that I am. But all a person is is the sum of total of their experiences. That is what I am like it or not. I am Cardassia and Mark and Tau Ceti Prime and the Borg and the Caretaker's array and Chakotay and all of them. Seven. Harry. Kaplan. Carey. They are me, and I am they, and it is a vicious circle.

I once said something to B'Elanna about a thing that I had thought last night before I fell asleep. I think that she pinpoints me as an insomniac because she looked hurt. Like the fact that I can sleep at night is not something that she can fathom. How can she sleep? She who's at fault for so many things? After all of this she still think that best of me. After all of this I still think the best of her. She doesn't know all of the things that I have done. She doesn't know that I still can sleep at night. She doesn't know that the reason for this is medication that I replicate each night. I don't tell the Doctor because I don't want to know what he would say or think. I know that he would try to stop me, but at the end of the day I need the oblivion that sleep offers, and I won't let him take that away from me. I wouldn't let anyone take that away from me. At first when I began to take the pills I considered myself a chat taking the easy way out, but nothing is easy out here. I used to try warm milk that used to make me sick, and I'd be up until who knows what hour vomiting in the bathroom. So I take the pills, and I will until the time comes when I can sleep on my own again. I lie to myself that it is okay. I find that I lie to myself more out here, or maybe I just notice more out here, or maybe I just notice more out here than I did back home.

Walt Disney could never deal. But you have to give in sometimes when they want the impossible. When they expect you to make it all happen. When the ythink that your life is as simple as a piece of paper. When you know it is as complicated as a paper swan. Out here I'm the origami master. I'm the folder of paper swans. So do they want the truth? I'd give my life to get them home, but I'd give myself to get them home ignorant, and there is a difference. I'll fold my paper swans alone and let them only see the beauty.


End file.
